


Primae Noctis

by inlovewithnight



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Knotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:46:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3363197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On their fourth date, Jupiter takes matters into her own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Primae Noctis

On their fourth date, Jupiter takes matters into her own hands.

The first two times Caine came to visit her, they went flying and then made out on a rooftop. Fine. Very nice. The third time, she got him to go to dinner with her. Nothing fancy, of course; burgers a step above fast food, and she’d come prepared with a hat so he could hide his ears.

This time. This time, though, she is getting laid, if she has anything to say about it.

They go flying, and it’s amazing as always. She’s getting really good with the magic space boots, and watching him enjoy his wings is… there’s something almost innocent about his happiness. It’s a good look on him.

They go back to the rooftop and he reaches for her, smiling a little. “You looked good out there, your Majesty.”

“So did you.” She kisses him lightly, then steps back. “Come on. We’re going somewhere else.”

He immediately gets nervous. It’s almost like he doesn’t trust her not to get in trouble. “Where?”

“A hotel,” she says, and holds up her hand to stop him before he can start protesting. “Caine. I want this.”

“You don’t understand, Jupiter. I’m a splice. My… my responses, my body…”

“I’ve done my research,” she says. His face is still twisted up with worry, so she steps in and kisses him again, until his wings curl around her. 

“If you don’t want to, we won’t,” she says softly. “But I’d really like to try.”

She’s a Royal, and he loves her. Some combination of the two makes him nod and break their embrace to take her hand. “Lead the way.”

**

She owns the Earth, but she’s still on a cleaner’s salary; it is not a fancy hotel.

Caine doesn’t seem to mind. He checks the locks, checks the perimeter, checks the bathroom, then comes back to the bedroom and stares.

She splurged a little bit on a matching bra and panty set for the occasion. Nothing she couldn’t move in for flying, but Caine’s a practical guy. He approves.

“I want to see you,” she says coaxingly. “Can I?”

“Your Majesty’s genes dictate perfect vision,” he said drily. “You can see me very well.”

She balls up her t-shirt and throws it at him. “Strip, Caine. You jerk.”

He laughs and starts taking off his layers of space leather. Probably magic space leather. She should ask about where it comes from, sometime, except she’s a little afraid of the answer. The Royals bathe in people juice. What if the Legions make clothes out of the giant lizards, or something? Better not to know.

Under the space leathers, Caine wears a space speedo. It’s black and snug and it… suits him. Very well. 

He poses for a moment, smiling at her again, then crawls up the length of the bed to brace himself over her and kiss her again. She wraps her arms around him, running her hands up between his wings and then down again, tracing over old scars and patches of smooth skin. He runs hot, he’s always extra hot, and she can feel her own body warming up in response to his proximity. Her skin flushes and she starts to sweat, which hits his buttons; his nostrils flare and he buries his face against her neck, breathing her in.

He also settles his body between her legs, and hello, yes. She is so ready. 

“Caine,” she says against his hair, while he sniffs his way down to nuzzle between her breasts. “Please.”

He stops for a moment, breathing hard, then looks up at her. “You’re sure? Really sure?”

“Yes.”

He takes a deep breath, staring at her for another moment, then nods and kisses her chest. “I don’t know how to take this… harness off you. It’s very primitive.”

“Oh my god.” She sits up and strips out of her bra, giggling a little. So much for big romantic moments.

When she lies down again, Caine hooks his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and guides them down, his face very serious, like he’s embarking on a very important mission. She has a momentary flash of panic—what if she disappoints him, what if she can’t measure up to space girls—but before she can get too distracted, he’s settling in with his face between her legs and she can’t really be too worried about anything.

He opens her up with gentle fingers, rubbing slow arcs against sensitive skin before he starts with quick, teasing licks. His facial hair is rough-textured but not prickly, an extra sensation that shivers through her until she gets used to it; or really, until his light explorations identify her sweet spots and she stops thinking about it.

Caine is very, very good at this. Personal preference or serving his queen, she doesn’t know and she probably won’t remember to ask later, but oh. She has never had a guy make eating her out feel like worship. 

“Fuck,” she gasps, curling her legs around his waist, probably digging her heels in too hard but she needs _something_ to ground her while he does that. “Caine. Oh my god.”

He pauses for a moment, looking up at her and licking his lips. “Is this not a custom on this planet?”

“It is, but… never mind. Just keep going.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” He grins at her and licks his lips again, then lowers his head, and it’s either just another moment or a thousand years before she comes.

She feels boneless and soaked-through, and she can’t even cling to him when he crawls up to kiss her. She just kind of paws at his arms and licks the taste of herself out of his mouth.

“Are you ready?” he asks quietly, and she nods, making a desperate little noise as he pushes his underwear down. She can’t see, from this angle, but she has a good sense of things from how he was pressed hard against her before. She’s ready. 

He pushes inside her slowly, sending electric currents through her nerves, and she rakes one hand through her own hair, digging her nails into her scalp to keep from crying out. He’s thick and solid and she is _full_ , she can’t even imagine what it’s going to feel like when he…

He starts to move, slow and careful thrusts, his face close to hers. She arches up for a kiss, her teeth catching clumsily at his lips as her body shakes, sensations warring with each other through her nerves and muscles.

“Jupiter,” he says, his voice rough and warm. She knows she should say something back, something romantic to make this a _moment_ , but all she can do is pull him closer against her and kiss him again.

He groans softly, dropping his head to her shoulder. “I’m close,” he says, his voice catching a little. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She nods, closing her eyes and trying to relax, to sink into how good everything feels, to trust that the next part will be more but the same. His body shudders, his breath hitches, and they both cry out as he knots inside her.

She wasn’t wrong; it’s _more_ fullness, stretching, a solid point inside her, but it isn’t bad. It’s just… a lot. It’s more. His hips are stuttering now, fighting himself, and she digs her fingers into his shoulders, holding on tight.

They stay like that for a few long moments before he gasps again, a short, sharp noise, and she feels heat flood inside her. His muscles relax under her hands, and slowly the fullness eases, until he can pull away.

He turns away from her for a moment, and she grabs at his arm, determined not to let this turn into something awkward or strange. “Caine,” she whispers. “Hey. Look at me.”

“Are you all right?”

“That’s an understatement.” She tugs at his arm again and he finally looks at her, studying her face for a moment before his features relax and he lies down with her again.

They’re quiet for a while, not kissing, hardly touching, letting their bodies and minds come down to the real world of sweat-soaked sheets, fingertip bruises on his shoulder blades, the first hints of a pleasant ache between her thighs.

“I probably should’ve mentioned this before,” she says after a while. “But I am on the pill. So we don’t have to worry about… puppies. Or whatever.”

He lifts his head and stares at her for a moment. “Jupiter,” he says, his voice choked. “You don’t have genetic control over reproductive timing on this planet?”

“I don’t even know what that means,” she says sincerely.

He hides his face against the pillow and groans. “Your Majesty will be the death of me.”

She kisses him on the neck and tugs the blankets up higher. They have the room for the night, and they’re both very much alive. She’s going to enjoy it.


End file.
